


It's A Start

by delphia2000



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 21:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphia2000/pseuds/delphia2000





	It's A Start

Peter had just put the last signature on the report he'd been working all morning when he noticed Kermit had silently appeared at his side. "Peter, want to go get some lunch?" his friend asked tiredly, "I'm fried from looking at those personnel files. None of those people have any apparent connection to your victim. I need a break before I start over again."

"Sure. Let me dump this on the Chief's desk before I get my coat."

Kermit turned back towards his office as he said, "Must be nice to actually finish something. Wish I knew the feeling. I'll get my jacket and go warm up the Kermitmobile."

They were on their way downtown when Peter realized there was a difference in Kermit's presence. He looked over at his friend who still continually wore his sunglasses, still drove the ugliest car in the city and still mouthed off to anyone and everyone with complete unconcern for his own self-preservation. Theman had aged some, putting on weight and losing the wiry, junk-food-diet, computer geek look. There were more character lines, more gray hairs and he occasionally wore a tie that had been produced after 1959. But somehow, something else had subtly changed.

It was more than the control and peace his friend had achieved ever since they'd returned from Florida. Peter already knew the cold-blooded killer was no longer there. Not that Kermit couldn't still take out a bad guy without blinking an eye. But now, it would be a deliberate decision, not a gut reaction. No, there was something else that was different.

As Peter reached out with his newly honed Shaolin senses to try to understand what he was feeling, it came to him that it was not something newly acquired by his friend. It was the unconscious death wish that had finally withdrawn.

Peter thought back to the day he'd first realized who and what Kermit really was. He'd seen him off and on, briefly, for years at the Blaisdell's, as a friend of Paul's. He was just a goofy guy who showed up at odd times, usually before Paul would go away on his business trips. But he never realized that Kermit accompanied Paul on his covert missions; that he was a lot more dangerous than he looked.

Kermit had been at the precinct for about a week but he'd kept to his office for most of that time. Blake had hit a small but appreciable jackpot in the lottery and they were all hanging around the bullpen talking about it when Skalany noticed Griffin had come out of hiding and had been first to dare speaking to him about other than work.

~~ * * * ~~

"Hey, Griffin, you ever win a jackpot?" Skalany asked as the new detective poured himself a cup of coffee.

Kermit took a sip from his mug before answering, leaning back against the table that held the coffee machine. "I came close once. They had a million on the Ayatollah's head and I had a clear, sweet bead on him. But some stupid sycophant stepped in and I blew his head off by mistake. They don't pay diddly for close, or for sycophants either, for that matter."

Jody just shook her head and Mary Margaret laughed nervously. The Chief's muttered, "Yeah, right," echoed most everyone else's thoughts, including Peter's   
own.

Then Peter noticed that Paul had come out of his office. Kermit was grinning but Blaisdell wasn't. "I think that's enough story-telling for today, people. Crime doesn't take coffee breaks. Griffin, your warrant for the Croswell Construction financial records is here. Take Peter for back-up and bring it in right away. We get first dibs over IRS for now, but I can't promise how long that will last."

"Get the paper, Kid, and I'll get my portable hard drive," Griffin said as he straightened and hurried back to his office.

Peter reached for the warrant. "Captain..?" he began, but Paul waved off his question, handed him the paper and followed Griffin into his office.

The rest of the group had gone back to work, so Peter grabbed his coat and went to wait outside Kermit's office. He wasn't trying to eavesdrop but they hadn't closed the door and weren't speaking all that quietly. "Don't do this, Kermit. They're nice people. They want to like you. Let them."

"I am what I am, Paul. I can't change that."

"No one is asking you to. But you're more than the notches on your gun. Just remember that, okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm a lot of things. Besides being a hacker and a stone cold killer, I'm divorced again, I'm broke, I'm burnt out, I'm alone and I'm hiding in plain sight. The nice people deserve to know all that before they go inviting me over for meatloaf on Friday night."

"Kermit......"

The door swung open suddenly and Griffin almost bumped into him, giving him a look that said he knew Peter had been listening in. "We'll take my car," Kermit told him, heading for the door without slowing down.

"Detective Griffin?" Paul's voice barked out.

Griffin, noticeably annoyed, stopped at the door to turn and look at him. "Annie is expecting you for dinner tomorrow. I think she said she's making meatloaf."

Peter was almost as certain that Annie wasn't planning on company or meatloaf for dinner tomorrow as he was certain that Paul would be calling home the minute he was back in his office to tell her. And he was pretty certain that Griffin knew that too.

The corners of Kermit's mouth twitched. The smile was almost there. "Fine. Tell her I'll bring the wine. It's Cabernet with meatloaf, right?"

Paul was openly smiling now. "Bring a six pack. She's taken my beer away from me again. Told me I need to lose a few pounds."

Kermit nodded and gave a wave of his hand in assent as he turned to go. Later, in the car, on their way to the construction company's office, he said to Peter, "You know, as the Captain's kid, you get a few special privileges. One of them is not getting your head blown off for eavesdropping. I trust you won't make me regret not rubbing you out before you become a problem."

"You're wrong, Griffin," Peter corrected him, "I don't get any special privileges. In fact, I have to work twice as hard as everyone else not to disappoint him. And I wasn't eavesdropping, at least, not on purpose. Anything I may or may not have heard won't be retained because I'm going to be too busy figuring out a way to wrangle an invitation to dinner tomorrow. Mom makes great meatloaf. As for rubbing me out, 15 minutes ago, I'd have laughed at that. I'm not laughing now, okay? I won't be a problem. But given half a chance, I could be a friend."

"Oh, goody. Like Thelma and Louise?"

Peter snorted. "Hell, no. I'm not ready to go over any cliffs with you. But if you decide to drop this death-trap-on-four-wheels off one, I'll help you push it."

"Hey, hey, go easy. This car is a classic."

"Last I checked, classic and safe were not necessarily interchangeable," Peter baited him.

"Paul put you up to this?" Griffin asked quietly, steadfastly watching the road ahead.

"No. With your attitude, you couldn't pay me to be your friend. But I figure if Paul trusts you, then you must have some hidden attributes that could make it beneficial to have you on my side."

"Oh, self-interest," Kermit commented wryly.

"I have a feeling you can understand and respect that."

"Oh, yeah."

"So? Truce?"

"Sure, Louise. For now. So tell me how you think you can con Annie into inviting you over for dinner...she's blind, not stupid."

~~ * * * ~~

Peter realized the car had stopped and Kermit was talking to him. "What?" he asked, not quite grounded back in reality.

"I asked if you wanted Wings, or would you rather go down to the deli. I know you don't like rice. Where the hell were you, anyway?"

Peter smiled at the memories. "I was just thinking that it must be about time for you to get a new car."

"Right. Over my dead body. Can't get rid of the Kermitmobile."

"Why not?"

"Because it's green and for that, you're buying the rice. Insult my car one more time and I'm going to be forced to defend her honor with her hardly-used, factory-original tire iron upside your head. Come on, let's go to Wings."

He got out of the car, not waiting for any more discussion. Peter smiled as he followed. "Right behind you, Thelma."

End


End file.
